


ache

by trixibird



Series: That College Au [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Apartment sharing, Eating Disorders, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Self-Worth Issues, iwa isn't present but their friendship is mentioned, oikawa tooru has mental health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 22:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13691484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixibird/pseuds/trixibird
Summary: He could admit to himself that this cold, aching feeling in his chest that had followed him since the appointment with his new physiotherapist was probably self-pity.





	ache

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Haikyuu fanfic before and it's been almost three years since I wrote fanfic in general but idk my anxiety was being terrible and I needed an outlet and Tooru is a good outlet. Enjoy?

He sat in the bath long after the water went lukewarm ( _and then cool_ ) and wallowed in self-pity.

Not that he would admit that if confronted. But here, in the quiet of his apartment bathtub ( _shared apartment, Tooru, you won’t be alone forever_ ) he could admit to himself that this cold, aching feeling in his chest that had followed him since the appointment with his new physiotherapist was probably self-pity.

Tooru sniffed and pulled his knees up to his chest, the right significantly more stiff than the left. He buried his face in them and promised himself that the water running down his calves was definitely bathwater ( _too warm, too salty, what kind of pathetic man cries alone in a bathtub_ ) and that everything was fine.

The others were probably going to be back soon. He needed to get out before they were, couldn’t let them see him like this in his moment of weakness and _why had he thought sharing an apartment would be better than freshman dorms, why-_

He wasn’t getting up, though, and fresh tears were dripping down to meet the bathwater at his ankles. ( _you must look so fucking pathetic right now it’s a wonder any of them can stand you when you’re useless and petty and_ )

“-awa?” There was a gentle knock at the bathroom door. Sawamura. Tooru hadn’t heard them come in, was too busy feeling fucking _sorry_ for himself. “Are you in there?”

“Sorry, Dai-chan,” Tooru called, putting on his best _everything’s fine_ voice, perfected with years of frequent use. “I must have dozed off. I’ll be out in a minute!”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping in the bath,” and Tooru could _hear_ the concerned frown in his voice. “Are you okay, Oikawa?” The door handle didn’t rattle, thankfully. He couldn’t handle Sawamura walking in to see him like this.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tooru finally found the strength to pull himself from the tub, wincing quietly as his bad knee bent to support his weight. It had stiffened up more. His charade was going to be tough to pull off, especially if Bokuto picked his room to crash in that night.

“Was it your appointment?”

Curse Sawamura and his fatherly instincts, really. It used to be Hajime and Hajime alone who could pull apart his tones and disguises.

“Honestly, Dai-chan,” Tooru laughed, the sound hollow in his own ears. “It’s fine. Leave me to dress, won’t you?” He pulled the plug on the tub just to fill the silence left in the wake of his words, taking time to towel himself off and pull his brace on before slipping into sweats and a faded godzilla shirt Hajime still didn’t know he’d taken.

Sawamura was standing in front of the door when he swung it open, arms folded and face pulled into a frown. Tooru froze on the spot, his stomach falling further to his feet.

( _you’ve gone and fucked it all up now, Tooru, haven’t you? same as always_ )

Despite his height advantage, Tooru never felt quite as small as he did under the influence of Sawamura’s frown.

“I know something’s wrong,” Sawamura said, tone inviting no argument. Kuroo and Bokuto were oddly silent in the kitchen, unpacking takeout boxes. “Either you tell us willingly and let me support you to the kitchen or I toss you over my shoulder and let Kuroo sit on you until you spill.”

“I’d listen to him,” Bokuto had half a smile on his face but his eyes were oddly somber. “Dumb cat weighs a ton.” Kuroo made a sound of deep offense but said nothing, his own eyes on Tooru’s legs.

Normally Tooru would make a suggestive comment ( _I knew you only had eyes for my legs, Tetsu-chan, really, but my eyes are up here_ ) but a bone deep tiredness overcame him at the room’s atmosphere and he dropped his gaze with a shrug.

“Prognosis wasn’t great. Surgery could be the end of my volleyball career, but I-” ( _don’t want to be done yet, never want to be done, this is all I’m good for_ ). Sawamura’s face softened and he nodded. He stepped closer and muscled his shoulder under Tooru’s right arm, his own firm on Tooru’s waist as he led the setter to the couch.

“Ginger beef,” Kuroo delivered the box and a pair of chopsticks to Tooru, Bokuto following a moment later, balancing his own box of food with an ice pack and a dishtowel. He settled next to Tooru and then pulled his legs across his own lap, settling the ice and dishtowel under Tooru’s swollen knee.

“You don’t need the towel, Kou-chan,” Tooru said softly. “I’m wearing my brace, it’s thick enough.” Bokuto made an affirmative noise and threw the towel at Kuroo. When he turned back to Tooru he was grinning.

“Comfy?”

Tooru was struck dumb for a moment, but nodded. A lump had formed in his throat, more unshed tears welling behind his eyes.

“Eat, Oikawa. You need to take these with food,” Sawamura shook his bottle of pain pills, setting one of them down just beyond Tooru’s reach on the coffee table next to a glass of water. He and Kuroo took seats on the cushions next to the table with their food, both eyeing him in a way he wasn’t used to ( _Hajime is the only one who cares enough to look behind your masks and sometimes you’re convinced even he doesn’t really care but you’re his best chance at nationals and he_ deserves _to go, this_ team _deserves to go and you keep_ failing _them, Tooru_ ) and he found it hard to meet their eyes in return.

“I usually take two, Dai-chan,” he said instead, reaching for the pill. Sawamura pulled it further back.

“The dosage given is one, you get one. And only after you’ve eaten half.”

“Dai-chan, are you my dad now?” Tooru arched an eyebrow, pitch of his voice creeping up in a mockery of his usual teasing.

“I’m certainly qualified enough,” Sawamura snorted instead and went on eating his fried rice as if Tooru wasn’t mocking him. Tooru wanted to bite out something mean enough to make Sawamura mad, but found himself lacking the energy.

He picked at his food obediently, not hungry ( _you don’t deserve to eat, Tooru, you should be punishing yourself for being such a fucking failure_ ) but knowing he wouldn’t get the pain pill and relief from the ache of his knee until he did. Halfway through the box Sawamura watched him take one and drink half the glass of water, and didn’t protest when Tooru could only stand to eat a few more bites. He and Kuroo cleared the takeout, leftovers stored in the fridge, while Bokuto found a mindless action movie for them to watch. He stroked at Tooru’s knee absently as he watched and the unfocused gentleness almost hurt more than Hajime’s rough hands forcing him into painful positions for his exercises.

Tooru must have fallen asleep during the movie, because he woke up in his own bed in the grey part of dawn, the familiar weight of Bokuto at his back, one well-muscled arm tossed casually over his waist. Kuroo was an unusual but oddly welcome addition, sprawled half under Tooru and snoring softly. They were warm and he didn’t want to get up but he had to go for his morning run-

( _just because you’re injured and useless doesn’t mean you can slack off Tooru, and if you go for a run Sawamura won’t be able to force you to have breakfast-_ )

Sawamura poked his head in. He was getting good at interrupting the vindictive voice in Tooru’s head. “I’m going to grab a few things from the store. If I come back and find you’ve gone for a run on that leg, I’m banning milk bread for the semester.”

Tooru let his head fall back and blew out a frustrated sigh. “Sure, Dai-chan.”

Sawamura frowned again. He was more handsome when he smiled, but Tooru wasn’t going to tell him that. “Hey, you’re going to be fine. I looked over the papers the therapist gave you. We’ll keep up with your exercises and if you don’t overwork yourself, you’ll be back on the court before the season really picks up. We won’t let it get bad enough for surgery.”

“You seem serious about this. Iwa-chan’s been texting you, hasn’t he?”

“He worries,” Sawamura defended, and then he was gone, and Tooru was left in their apartment with two warm weights keeping him on the bed. The ache of his knee was faintly present, but for the first time in a while, Tooru wasn’t worried about it. He sighed softly and shifted, tucking his face into Kuroo’s shoulder. Bokuto’s arm tightened around him.

Maybe Sawamura was right. Maybe he would be just fine.


End file.
